


The Last Rose of Summer

by TheElvesAlwaysStealTheShow



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Elves, F/M, Gen, Loss, Love, Mirkwood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-03-06 21:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3148448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheElvesAlwaysStealTheShow/pseuds/TheElvesAlwaysStealTheShow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're invited to a party deep within the reaches of the Mirkwood forest. You've gone to these before, but never to one that the Elven king has thrown. A courier arrives in your village, with personally addressed invitations to all the unmarried females. None of them seem to see anything odd about the whole thing, including your parents. When arguing your point gets you nowhere, you give up and accept your invitation. Still, you remain reluctant to let loose and have a good time until you're given a small box, from Thranduil himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meadow Anemone

**Author's Note:**

> I have never written one of these first person tales before, so I apologize in advance if it gets a little rocky.

_"Chuaigh mé isteach i dteach aréir_ _is d'iarr mé cairde ar mhnaoi an leanna._  
 _Is é dúirt sí liom ní bhfaighidh tú deor._  
 _Buail an bóthar is gabh abhaile."_

   The warm summer air was sweet that morning. You had been up since sunrise, singing and running through the flower fields inside the wooded areas around your home. Today had a different feel to it than other days previous. You felt happy and light-hearted, and without a care in the world. By now, it was nearing noon and there were sounds of excited chatter in the village center. One word caught your ear: party.  
   Quickly, you turn on your heel and dash from the trees to see what everyone is going on about. Elves everywhere were smiling and even jumping around with what looked like some type of invitations in their hands. All your friends had them, and soon, they rushed over to see you.  
   "Máiréad, have you heard the news?!" said your friend Iona, beaming.  
   "No, I haven't. What's going on?!"  
   "The Elvenking of Mirkwood is throwing another one of his summers galas! The invitations have just arrived! Look, see, it has my name printed, right here!" She shows you the parchment paper with the elegant script bearing her name in black ink. There is also the date and time printed below and a message from the King:  
    " 'I welcome you to join in celebrating the estival solstice with me,' " you read out loud. " 'The event will take place the 12th Sterday of Forelithe.' That's tomorrow!" You say excitedly.   
   "I know! I can't wait!" Iona says.  
   "I wonder if I got one, too?" You say, looking around for the courier.  
   "I'm sure you did! It's like all of the younger women have personal invitations."  
   "That's strange. I wonder why." You say, perplexed.  
   "I wonder if the King is looking for the Prince a bride!" Chimes in your other friend Enel.  
   "Don't be foolish. Why would the King be looking for his son a bride in countryside village? We're farmers-daughters and gardeners. We're hardly fit to be royalty." Your friends don't like your tone, but deep down they know you speak the truth. As you look around, you spot your mother and father, and she waves you over.  
   "I'll be right back!" You say, leaving your group.  
   It did seem like all of the girls your age were grinning over their personal invitations. Before you reach your parents, your younger brother Daeron sneaks up from behind you.  
   "Where do you think you're going?" He asks, pulling on your long, red hair.  
   "Hey, stop that!" You slap him on the chest as you turn to face him.  
   "What are you going to do about it, freckle-face?"  
   You frown as you take in what he said. It was true, [your face](http://www.theenglishgroup.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/183521753536188984_XVGYw6L4_f-460x664.jpg) was covered in freckles, and had been since you were born. You weren't born with flawless and pure skin like the rest of your kin, but it did set you apart from the rest of them. Men traveling the countryside, stopping in your village for rest and supplies, always seemed to be drawn to you, leaving the other females jealous, even if they didn't want the attention from the men. Your brother, however, always used them as an excuse to tease you.  
   "What do you want?"  
   He pondered the question for a moment before saying something about all the excitement going on.  
   "Bet you didn't get an invitation! Thranduil only invites the most beautiful girls to his parties."  
   "Daeron! Don't speak to your sister that way," says your mother, as she comes upon you two. "Run along, your father has been looking for you."  
   He groans and leaves the two of you be.  
   "Did you need something, nana?" You ask with a smile.  
   "Ah, yes. Here, I believe this is yours," she says, handing you the same kind the envelope as your friends. And just like theirs, your name is penned in the same gorgeous calligraphy.  
   "Do you know what this is for?" You asked her, inserting the card back into it's holder.  
   "Well, my dear, it looks like you've been invited to a party with the Elven king, my dear. You should be excited."  
   "It just seems...odd."  
   She reads the expression on your face plainly. "You always over-think things, darling. Go! Enjoy yourself and get away from here for awhile! I think it will do you some good."  
   "Nana, I've been to these kinds of parties before. You go, you drink, and you dance. Just because the Elven king has invited me, what is this cause for all _this_?" You look around at everyone smiling and celebrating. You just don't seem to share the same feelings.  
   "Now, now, don't go making up your mind so fast. Your father and I will see that you look the part, so that you might be more accepting."  
   Just when you go to interrupt, you're stopped by her hand.  
   "You're going, my dear. Best just get used to the idea of being a proper lady for the evening."  
   You roll your eyes, and tell your mother goodbye. Your friends are awaiting your arrival to see if you got the same invitation as they.  
   "Did you get one?!" asks Iona.  
   You nod, but just don't share your friends' feelings.  
   "What's wrong, Máiréad? Aren't you happy?"  
   "Meh, I just don't understand all of this, I guess."  
   "Why, because it was just us girls that got invited?"  
   "In a way, yes." You say, looking down at the dirt. "Do you not feel anything odd about this?"  
   "No," Iona answers almost too quickly. "not really. I think you're just over thinking it! Come, lets go pick out what we're wearing!"  
   You sigh and let your friend drag you by the arm to her house, your face never regaining the smile you had had earlier. You thought you might as well get over it, as there was no changing the fact that you were going. If anything, you could drink yourself into a crazy, wine-inducing stupor.  
   Once inside Iona's room, she tell you to tell her which of her dresses would look best for the king's courts. Then she tells you what you should wear.  
   "Remember that beautiful, blue dress your mother's sister sent you? The one with the gold embroidery on it?"  
   "Yes, are you wanting to borrow it?"  
   "No! I think you should wear it! It looks so elegant; far better than anything I have! Why, I bet you'd look like you're actually from Mirkwood in that gown!"  
   "I don't know. Don't you think it's a little too much?" Your voice hints at uncertainty.  
   "Heavens no! That blue against your beautiful red hair.... I'm jealous!" Iona sits beside you on the bed. "Really, all the girls here are jealous of you."  
   "Why? Look at me." You look down at your lap. "Everyone stares at me like I'm some outsider."  
   "Trust me, I've heard what they say. They stare because you're so unique, Máiréad!"  
   The two of you talk awhile, before she gets your mood back up to it's normal, happy self. As Iona goes about digging through her wardrobe, you run home to grab the blue dress you have had tucked away since you received it. Maybe this wasn't going to be as bad as you expected. Iona seemed to have gotten better at her persuasion...


	2. White Indigo

   An overwhelming sense of dread and nervousness surrounded you today, as your heart fluttered within in your chest. Today was the day of the gala in Mirkwood, and you were back to thinking that this just wasn't a good idea.  
   Sitting in front of your mirror, you looked long in to your reflection. Your hair was softly curled and cascading over your shoulders. Your face, was fresh and pure, with no time wasted in trying to conceal your freckles. Others had tried in the past and with no success. The [dress](http://cdna.lystit.com/photos/15f3-2013/12/23/marchesa-blue-embroidered-gown-with-tulle-skirt-overlay-product-1-16401581-0-594189212-normal_large_flex.jpeg) from your aunt, looked beautiful, but you felt uncomfortable. It wasn't you. You wore no jewelry, no circlets in your hair; nothing other than the embellishment on your dress.  
   As you sit there, deep in nervous thought, you don't realize the rapping at your door. It takes your mother walking in to stir you. Reluctantly, you leave your room and walk slowly to meet your parents. Their eyes light up at your appearance, while you wish you slink away to some darkened corner. They wish you good luck and blessings for a safe journey before seeing you off. Most of the other women are seated within a covered caravan, while you insist on taking the trip on horseback. Iona joins you, upon her own horse, with her parents looking ashamed that she won't be arriving like a proper lady. The two of you join in behind everyone, and wave goodbye to the rest of the town, as the sun begins it's decent into the horizon.  
   "I'm so nervous!" says Iona, as she fiddles with the reigns.  
   "I'm read for some wine," you add, flashing her a smirk.  
   "Well, I'm glad you're finally getting into the spirit of things!"  
   "I'm not, hints the wine."  
   She gives you a very motherly, stern expression before giggling herself. She promises you that things will get better.  
   "Our parents won't be there to instruct us! It is our turn to have some fun, you know?"  
   "I don't think the King will appreciate anyone acting out, do you?" You say, going back to your melancholy tone.  
   "What do you mean?" Iona looks at you perplexed and wanting to know more.  
   "You know, carousing around till we fall to the floor asleep, unable to walk straight, and muttering things only to be whispered things behind closed doors to men that we've only just laid eyes on?"  
   "My word, Máiréad! I'd never expect you to say anything like what you just did!" Iona is red in the face.  
   "What? That I would act that way, or are you embarrassed over what I just said?"  
   She's slow to answer, acting like she doesn't know you as well as she thought she did. "Both."  
   "Do you really think that either one of us would do that?" You say, an eyebrow raised.  
   "No." Her voice is small. "Well...sometimes I wish I was more....what's the word, adventurous?"  
   "Ha, well, Iona, are you harboring some dark desires behind that innocent façade?"  
   Even though you're teasing her, her cheeks grow even a darker shade for crimson. She's unable to look at you for what seems like the longest time.  
   "I wish the men looked at me like they do you and other girls."  
   "The men that look at me, you don't want. It's not as glamorous as you think it is, Iona. Be happy that you're not being...pestered and chased after."  
   "But, I want to catch someone's eye, too."  
   "You will, but don't latch on to the first person who give you the eye." You try to sound reassuring, but she seems to still have her mind made.  
   "I understand what you're saying, I guess. Maybe I'll find love-at-first-sigh tonight!"  
   You laugh. "Maybe."

X X X X X

   It takes your party roughly an hour to travel to the outer roads of Mirkwood. Two of the King's guards seem to be awaiting your arrival and give your caravan a personal escort into the realm. Lanterns are hung in trees bordering the road, and with the sun being almost behind the mountains, their light is much needed. Faintly, you can hear fiddles and harps playing reels and jigs, elves laughing and just an overall sense of happiness coming from inside the kingdom walls. Iona looks at you with an excited face; you feel that nervous feeling hit your stomach again. You dismount from your horse, hand the reins to the guard and stand with the others from your village. The others are chatty while you stand quietly off away from the group. You catch the other guard looking at you, and when you turn you head, he adverts is eyes quickly. _Great, and it begins already._  
What you fail to realize is that that elf thought you were beautiful, and not staring overlong because of your freckles. Your mood was starting to sour as you were shown inside the great doors and lead down to the party.  
   "My Lord, Thranduil, invites you to enjoy yourselves to your fullest." Bows the elven guard.  
   The other girls hurry off, and Iona follows suit, leaving you to slowly slink off. The size of the hall was immense, far beyond your wildest imaginations. It was decorated with large, golden vases full of fresh flowers and greenery. Banners of gold and burgundy were draped from the the highest reaches of the arched ceilings and runners on the tables. There were elves everywhere: talking and drinking amongst their small groups. You slowly snake through them, making sure to keep you eyes from theirs until you find a empty table at the back of the room. You can hear whispers from the elves you thought you had passed by without disrupting. Your attention to their voices is interrupted when a male servant asks you if you'd like a glass of wine, which you gratefully accept.  
   "What are you doing over here, Máiréad?"" Asks Iona as she runs up to you. "I thought you were behind me!"  
   "Just trying to hide."  
   "Won't you come dance?"  
   "Maybe later."  
   "If you drink as much as I fear you're going to, you won't." She frowns.  
   You tip your glass to her before bringing it back to your lips. Iona leaves you soon after, and you watch her get asked to dance just as soon as she gets back to the center of the hall. You smile, as you are genuinely happy for her. As you scan the room, you see the other elves you traveled here with. They seem to be looking at you, laughing and then turning their backs. You sigh deeply, unaware of who is looking at you.  
  From his table, Thranduil had spotted you and his eyes had remained there. Right now, no one else had captured his eye like you had. For now, though, you remain in your corner, nursing a refilled glass of wine.


	3. Moon Flower

   The gala is in full effect.  
   Your friends have found you, sitting alone at your corner table. They have come to take a breather and see how you're doing.  
   "Oh, Máiréad, I really wish you would leave this table!" Iona seems so determined to get you away from your comfort zone. "All you have done is drink wine."  
   "Well, then my evening has been fulfilled." You smirk.  
   "You're no fun!" says Enel, as she sits down beside you.  
   "Perhaps you two are _too much_ fun."  
   "I think you're scared," teases Iona.  
   You let loose a small laugh, closing your eyes. "Not fair, you figured me out."  
   "Well, be that way!" Chimes in Enel. "We'll go have fun for you!" She takes Iona by the arm and leave you alone once more. They stop, flash you smiles and run off into the thick of the dancing circle. You sigh, pick up your glass and scan the crowd.  
   "Is this all you're going to do tonight?"  
   The sudden voice behind you startles you. You're thankful you didn't have the glass to your mouth. You whip your head around, to see the King's son, Legolas, standing with his arms crossed, his eyes narrowed but with a playful gleam about them.  
   "Have you been spying on me?" You put down your glass, and give him your full attention.  
   "You're in my kingdom, so I can do as I please."  
   "It's your _father's_ kingdom..." You smile, which causes him to do the same.  
   "I suppose you're right. May I?" Me motions for your approval to sit at your table, which you agree to without objection.  
   "I feel like I should stand and curtsy to you." You reply, getting a nervous feeling in the pit of your stomach.  
   "Please, don't. It...makes me uncomfortable." Legolas kind of laughed. It seemed like he had is awkward moments like everyone else.  
   "What brings you over here?"  
   "I've noticed you've kept to yourself. My father wonders if something is wrong that might be improved."  
   You're caught off guard by the King taking notice of you.  
   "I...hrm...Well, I suppose I shouldn't lie. I don't know why I'm here, nor do I really wish to be here."  
   "And why is that?" Legolas asks, his tone inquisitive.  
   "I don't exactly feel comfortable in these situations." You turn your eyes away.  
   "I don't understand why. Is there anything I can do?"  
   "Let me quietly walk out of here?"  
   "Afraid I can't do that."  
   "So, I'm behind held against my will?" You smirk again.  
   "Not exactly..." He rises from his seat. "There's something I need to attend to. If you will excuse me."  
   You watched him leave, even more confused than when he had greeted you. You assumed it was something important for him to just get up and leave like he did. It was none of your business.

X X X X X

 ♫  _A Elbereth Gilthoniel,_  
 _silivren penna miriel_  
 _o menel aglar elenath,_  
 _na-chaered palan diriel_  
 _o galadhremmin ennorath nef aear,_  
 _sí aearon,_  
 _Fanuilos, le linnathon_  
 _Nef aear, sí aearon!_ ♫

_(O Star-queen Star-kindler, Glimmering white, sparkling like jewels the glory of the heavens slides down from the firmament. Having gazed afar at the distance from tree-tangled lands of Middle-earth on this side of the ocean, here, great ocean Fanuilos, I will sing to you On this side of the ocean, here, great ocean!)_

   You find yourself singing along. Your voice standing alone in the quieter reaches of the corner where you had spent your evening so far. No one pays you any mind, as no one is even close to you. But standing in an empty hall, some feet behind you, Legolas is spying. He's smiling as your voice reminds him of his mother's. Higher-pitched and heavenly does it loft upwards to join with the others. It isn't until the song ends that he rejoins you at your table.  
   "Enjoying yourself more now?"  
   Again, he startles you. "You have to stop doing that!" You smile at him with a laugh. "Well, the wine is finally affecting me..."  
   "I would hope so! I've been keeping tabs on you, and your wine intake." He gives you a side-eye.  
   "Oh, have you?"  
   "Yes. I'm quite impressed." By now, he's got a smile on his face. "There aren't too many who can handle themselves when they've been drinking what you have been."  
   "What do you mean?" You thought you had been drinking regular wine.  
   "You didn't notice the color?"  
   Looking down at your glass, the candlelight makes it hard to really see the hue.  
   "What you're drinking is _Berdruskan_..."  
   "Well, that explains why you're surprised I'm not on the floor..." That wine, favorited for it's potent alcohol content, would put the normal elf under the table within a half a glass. It also has a distinct, blackened color.  
   "You have been served from that bottle by mistake. That was to be my father's wine..."  
   Your eyes get big. You've been downing glass after glass of the Elven-king's _personal_ wine. "I-I-I'm sorry."  
   "Ha, it's not your fault. What I would, however, like to know, is how are you able to still act so...sober?" He looks embarrassed to be asking you such a question.  
   You giggle. "The village where I'm from, has an inn that tends to see a lot of travelers. Many of them are Men. They come in there, flashing their coins as if I'm supposed to be impressed. We're poor folk, and that inn is our only source of money, and I've found a way to...help us out a bit."  
   Legolas' expression is intrigued.   
   "They flirt with me from the moment they step inside. At first, I just served them their ale and bread and ignored them as best I could. Well, after watching a couple drinking contests, I got an idea. I proposed to them that if they could out drink me, then I'd run off with them and we would get married."  
   "That's...," he fell silent, and looked down at the table.  
   "I know, I know, it's not ladylike, but the coins I brought in from these proposals changed the lives of all of us. I'm not exactly proud of what I did, as many of the ladies I traveled here with..." Your voice trails off. "They think I'm a harlot."  
   "More less, it sounds like they're jealous of the attention you got and not them. Do they think that by dancing with every male that asks them, they're doing anything different?" He had been attentive to the guests actions.  
   "If I looked like they did, maybe they wouldn't have thought it was so risque."  
   "What do you mean?" He asks, slightly cocking his head.  
   You say nothing, instead you look him in the eye; your expression long. Legolas smiles.  
   "There's nothing wrong with how you look. That servant who has bee serving you? Well, he's been doing it on purpose. He lifted a special bottle of my father's wine to serve to you, and made sure the moment your glass was empty he would waltz over and refill it; making sure he was the only one waiting on you. The only problem was that you never paid him any mind. I heard him in the cellar complaining that it was like you didn't notice him."  
   You can't say anything but raise your eyebrow is disbelief.  
   "The reason I left you earlier was because I finally spotted him. He had been hiding from me when I saw him with a particular bottle of wine..."  
   "I don't know how to react to all this..."  
   He laughed this time. "I have an idea."  
   "For what?" You ask.  
   "A way for you to show that you're actually _above_ those who would rather put you down."  
   "I don't like where this is going."  
   "Ha, you probably won't." He extends his hand to you after rising from his chair. "Come dance with me."  
   "Oh, no. No, thank you!"  
   "I never ask for a dance."  
   "Why, because everyone is falling all over you?" You chide.  
   "Because I don't like to dance..."  
   "Then why are you doing this?"  
   He takes your hand, gently pulling you from your own chair. "Because I was told to. Now, come on."  
   The two of you walk through the crowd, toward the middle of the room. Everyone is looking at the two of you, but Legolas tells you to only look at him. From his balcony, Thranduil is watching the two of you, a smile on his face. You have no idea what is about to happen.


	4. Lily of the Valley

♫ _A 'níon mhín ó, sin anall na fir shúirí_.  
 _A mháithairin mhín ó, cuir na roithléan go dtí mé_. _♫_  
 _(Oh gentle daughter, here come the wooing men._  
 _Oh gentle mother, put the wheels in motion for me.)_

   "Just look at me," said Legolas. "You'll be fine."   
   You didn't exactly know what he meant until he pulled a blindfold from his tunic and tied it over your eyes. You tried to stop his hands, but he was too quick and instead took them within his own. The music was familiar, and after a couple steps, you knew what this dance was. The male dancer blindfolds his female partner, and she is to start to dance. From there, the males constantly change dance partners. When the reel finally ends, the blindfold is removed, and that male, if different, is the partner for the next dance. They all must dance with another female, but the object is to make it return to your partner before someone else takes her for himself.  
   "Of all dances...," you mutter, as your feet quickly begin moving.  
   It was a quick reel with many steps, but very pretty if the dancer knew what she was doing. You're gifted enough to know the steps without seeming unsure without the use of your eyes. As you twirl your skirts are almost weightless as well as your long tresses. You don't realize that you're beginning to smile, but Legolas had already left you. The other elven men didn't stay long with you, as you had expected, and figured that Legolas would be there when the dance ended. You hoped, at least.  
   All around you women giggled as they were getting dizzy from all the spins, but you remained light of foot and spirited. When the music finally stopped, your chest was rising and falling quickly, as you waited for your binds to be removed. Someone worked on the knot from behind you. Their hands were slow; the same as Legolas' when he was tying the knot at the start. As the cloth was taken away, you noticed that everyone is looking at you. Quickly, you turn around to not see Legolas standing beside you, but his father, instead! The Elven-king himself!  
   You're speechless! Your mouth tries to make words, but instead they're silent movements. Remembering your manners, you quickly curtsy and lift your eyes up to meet his from a lower view. He's smiling at you, then motions for you to rise. The rest of the court bows as well, but then begin to dance around the two of you as a new song starts up. You're at such a loss for words.  
   "Come, I wish to speak with you somewhere more quiet," he says, showing with his open hand where to be headed.  
   "Y-Y-Yes, Heruamin." You feel a little shaky in the knees as you leave the dance. Your head begins to spin once you're finally a considerable distance away. Placing a hand on the back of an empty chair you brace yourself.  
   Thranduil quickly comes up beside you, placing a hand on your back, a pained expression upon his beautiful features. "Lle tyava quel?" ( _Do you feel well?_ )  
   You still can't say anything as you shake your head as a reply. The wine was really setting in, not helped any by all the spinning and jumping steps the last dance had required.  
   "Re caele beika fion." ( _She has had too much wine._ ) Thranduil says to a female servant as she rushes up to you and her king.  
   "Lle anta amin tu?" ( _Do you need help?_ ) She asks him. He tells her to get chilled towels and a pitcher of water ready. Thranduil lightly takes you by the arm and begins to lead you away from the party. So much of your normal sensory function was fuzzy that you didn't comprehend where you were going. All you noticed were the steps, and how difficult it was for you to navigate them. Toward the top, you lost your footing and slipped. Thranduil stopped you from falling completely down, and rolling to the bottom landing. Your eyelids were growing ever heavier. Before too much longer, you were on level ground again, the music very faintly below you. The room you were in was warm, and felt very inviting. If it wasn't for your the Elven-king, you would have fallen to the floor. He showed you to a bed, pulling back the covers slightly as he sat you down on the bare spot. Your eyes are pointed downward, toward his feet. He cups your face in his hands, slowing lifting your gaze toward his eyes. He looks quiet concerned.  
   "Esta sinome," ( _Rest here._ ) he whispers, as he helps you into the bed, removing your shoes and then laying the covers over your shoulders. The bed is large, and the sheets made of silk. They're cool to the touch, and it feels good upon your flush skin.  
   You're laying in the King's bed, yet you're unaware at this moment.  
   "Forgive me, my Lord." You mutter, reaching a hand from within the blankets to touch the fabric of his coat.  
   He only smiles, touching your forehead with his palm. You close your eyes, but only for a moment as the room feels like it's spinning out of control. You hear a slight knock at the chamber door, and Thranduil leaves your side. When he returns, he places a cool towel upon your forehead, brought to him by the servant. The relief shows upon your face almost immediately.  
   "My Lord...." You mutter, closing your eyes.  
   "There's no reason to apologize to me. I should be offering my apologies upon you for the actions of my wait staff." He smiles at you.  
   "I really should be going home." You struggle to lift yourself, but the room violently begins to tilt and spin. Thranduil places his hands upon your shoulders and slowly eases you back down upon pillow.  
   "No," says Thranduil, sternly. "Amin hiraetha." ( _I'm sorry._ )  
   You manage a confused expression.  
   "Please, you need your rest. I'll check on you within the hour." Thranduil slowly turns away from you, stopping at the door to look back at you. It's only a glance, but your eye contact seems to last an age. By now, your eyelids are even more heavy and finally close as you slip into a gentle slumber. Thranduil is reluctant to leave you, but must get back to the festivities before anyone realizes he's disappeared. Just before he steps foot outside his bed chamber, he turns around and makes his way back to you. Quietly, he pulls a small box from the inside of his robe and lays it upon the nightstand beside you. Hopefully it isn't too long before you awake, as the party is just starting to really pick up. The moon has finally made her grand entrance.   
  


	5. Mistflower

   "Sut naa lle umien?" ( _How are you doing?_ ) Asked a female servant, from across the room.  
   Slowly, you fully opened your eyes as you looked toward the direction of the voice. At first, it was hard for you to get your body to cooperate, but you managed to sit up in bed. The servant made her way over to you, bowed and said, "My lord has been awaiting word of your recovery. Would you like for me to get him for you?"  
   You don't know what to say. You had intended to lay there and ponder just why the Elven-king had taken this liking to you, but the moment your head hit the pillow, you were fast asleep. Now that you had been awakened, you had no time to devise your own explanation for such events and feelings.  
   "I-I suppose...so." Your voice shows worry and uncertainty as does your face.  
   The servant bows a second time before exiting. As you take in your surroundings with a more sober state, you can't get over the niceness of the room. It seems too nice for a common guest room. Throwing the blanket aside, you exit the bed and slowly wander around, still a little unsure of your footing. The private bath looked so inviting; the aromas of bath salts lofted softly around the area. To your left, was a wardrobe. Slowly opening the door, you feel your face get warm. These were Thranduil's robes!  
   "I...just slept...in the Elven-king's bed...!" You say to yourself.  
   "I hope it gave you the rest you needed," said Thranduil as he walked up behind you, as silent as a deer.  
   You jumped, and spun around a little too quickly, but were supported by his strong arm when you began to show signs of stumbling.  
   "I see you're still a little shaky, he says.  
   Your face is flushed red. You're completely embarrassed to have slept in the Elven-king's bed, and been caught snooping through his clothing. Also, you were still slightly inebriated which, to you, was the worst of the three.  
   "Please, my lord, you must let me return to my home. I am of no acceptable state, right now."  
   "Do you need to lay back down?" His expression is inquisitive as his eyes search your face for agreement.  
   You shake your head. "I don't think I should be here."  
   "I disagree." Thranduil slightly shakes his head. "Come, let us return to the party. You may sit at my table and relax."  
   "Why are you doing all of this for me?" Your tone is slightly demanding.  
   "My reasons are not of your concern."  
   "Are they not? They involve me." You don't realize the harshness of your tone.  
   "Come with me, please. I will explain."  
   You decide to give him the benefit of the doubt, and allow him to escort you to his balcony seating. The table was furnished with flowers and a myriad of bottles. A bowl of fresh fruit was laid in the middle, two plates with service. He helps you into your chair, pushing it is as you sit down. You feel way out of place, as this table was truly meant for a king. You look down and away from him, as he takes his place beside you. What could he possibly want from you?  
   "Is something wrong?" Thranduil asks.  
   You wait a few moments before replying. "What am I doing here? Why did I get an invitation?"  
   His eyes narrow as he tries to read your reason for asking such a question. "What do you mean?"  
   "My lord, look at me. I am not of a standard to attend these types of events. I'm a bar-maid, nothing that you would normally associate with."  
   "Whom I choose to  _associate_ myself with is of my concern only."  
   Your eyes begin to prick with the feeling of welled tears. You didn't aim to upset him, or be rude, but it seems that you had. You placed your head in your hands and remained as quiet as you could, but it was hard. "I'm sorry. Please, forgive me."  
   He looks at you, quickly realizing that he's, in fact, upset you. Tilting his head as if trying to peer around your closed hands at your face, Thranduil placed one hand on your shoulder, and the other gently pulled away your hands from your now, tear-stained face. For some reason you look up at him; his own expression nearly broke your heart.  
   "I should not have said that." He says.   
   You sniffle, pulling a napkin from your table service to wipe your eyes. "No one has ever paid me any general attention. None that didn't have a darker motive."  
   You've piqued his interest. "What do you mean?"  
   "I was talking to your son, and I told him a bit about myself, about my job and the people whom I've met over the years. All of them, the men who paid me any mind, were not the sort that I should have been talking too. They were thieves, murders and sell-swords. That's the type of conversation I know."  
   "Why did you I shouldn't associate myself with you?" He asked.  
   "Because I'm not fit in the eyes of most. I do not look like anything fit for these courts."  
   "And who decides that?"  
   You're quiet.  
   "I know who you are. I know of most that walk any of my outer-laying lands. Obviously, I don't feel the same way you do about your life."  
   "But why am _I_ here?"  
   "Because I picked you out. Do you not understand the reasoning behind you receiving an invitation?" Thranduil takes up a glass of wine. The thought nearly makes your stomach turn.  
   "No..."  
   He seemed surprised by how naïve you appear to be. "I'm looking for a bride."  
   You go numb. Are your really hearing that correctly? "I-I-I'm sorry?"  
   He smirks. "My people have brought to me their concerns about my well being and it was on their own accord that they suggested to me that I should remarry. Truthfully, I don't know how I feel..." His voice diminished from it's normally strong and sure tone, to a soft and somewhat nervous. Elves, once married, do not get remarried if their spouse passes on. Everyone knew the bond that Thranduil had with his queen, and this is the biggest shock to you. that he would be looking for someone to potentially take her place by his side. _So does that mean..._ , you ask yourself.  
   "You can't possibly be thinking that I'm a good candidate."  
   All he does is smile gently. Your face goes hot red again, as you turn you gaze away.   
   "How many people have you seen me dote over this evening?"  
   You remembered how you had just awakened from a nap within his bed... The red intensified.  
   "You have no idea how I feel about saying these things. I'm sorry if I cannot quite remove my wall."  
   Motioning with your hands that it was alright, you can start to see a fine crack in his visage. He was a very strong individual both physically and emotionally. It was not a rare occurrence for an elf to die from heartbreak. You assumed that it was Legolas that had kept his father going.   
   "I understand that this is a lot to bare, but I would like to give you something, as a token of my admiration."  
   Thranduil pulls out an small, ornately carved, wood box and places it before you on the table. His eyes were warm, and it really seemed like he was trying to show you that he did have some softness within his guarded heart. Gently, you take the box in both hands and lift the lid. An iridescent, white light gleams from within as you realize there is a ring within. You nearly drop the box from shock!  
   "I would like for you to wear this, this evening. There will not be too many of you that wear these gems, so you will have many eyes upon you. I understand if you do not wish to take this gift from me."  
   "Oh, no, no! This is...this is beautiful!" You remove the ring from it's holder and place it upon your right hand. The moonlight, from an opening up above, hits the stone and facets of light glow about you. "I don't know what to say!"  
   "Seeing you finally smile is thanks enough." The two of you share another tender, silent moment.  
   "Are you sure I've recovered from that wine? This seems far too good to be true." You pull a strand of hair behind your ear, and retreat your gaze from his face. Inside, you're almost screaming from happiness, which just isn't your way of acting.  
   "I cannot say, but I can assure you that you're not dreaming."  
   The two of you seem comfortable with each other, after only being around you for such a short span of time. You both harbor thick walls and a restraint to plunge head first into anything. Deep down, you're still unsure about the fact that you were invited here on the premise of possibly being asked to marry a king. The more you talk, the less you realize how much time you have been away from your table and your friends. By now, they're probably wondering what's happened to you. Before, you hadn't noticed them dancing around you, and once you began to feel bad, everything else was blocked out.   
   "My lord, my friends are probably worrying about me, do you mind if I return to them for a while?"  
   He nods his head, rises and shows you down the stairwell that had given you so much trouble earlier. "I'll seek you out later in the evening," he says before the two of you part ways. You bow and blend back into the crowd as best you could, yet everyone already was watching you. Keeping your eyes down, you found Iona, sitting at the back table. Her face lite up when she sees you.  
   "Máiréad! Are you okay?! Where have you been?!"  
   You take a seat beside her, pushing away the half-filled glass of wine. "I've, um, well, let's just say you wouldn't believe me even if I told you." 


	6. Evening Primrose

   "You did what?!" Iona is gripping the seat of her chair as if it was going to rocket into the air. "You're lying! Tell me you're lying!"  
   Shaking your head you assure her that what you just told her was, in fact, the truth. You had just explained to her what had happened to you after the dance: the wine, the the bed, and the ring. Of all of that, it was the gift of the ring that had her so excited.   
  "You're telling me that the Elven-king is looking for a new bride?"  
   "Iona, please! Keep your voice down."  
   "I'm sorry, but I just can't believe what you're saying!"  
   "What, that Thranduil is looking to remarry, or that he's interested in me?" You give her a look of longing.  
   "I didn't say that! I didn't!"  
   "Trust me, I'm just as shocked as you are." Looking at the gleaming stones, you can't believe it yourself.   
   "So, what happens now?" Iona asks, finding a more settled potion in her chair.   
   "What do you mean?"  
   "You know... Has he decided to pick you or...?"  
   The question almost brings the redness back to your cheeks. "No, he said to me, that not very many people would be wearing these." You point at the ring. "I wonder if the girls he's interested in will also get gifts like these."  
   Iona looks around. "He's still sitting alone." She says, looking upwards behind you. "He seems to still be looking at you."  
   "Hush!" You chide her, with strong eyes.   
   "It's true."  
   "I just don't know what to think about all of this, though. That's the problem."  
   "You should be happy! So, so happy!"   
   "I think I am. Really, but you have to agree, that this is completely unexpected!"  
   "Well, we  _did_ think that possibly this was to find Legolas a bride, you know. I guess we just missed the mark a little."  
   "Yeah, a little..."   
   The two of you sit and talk until Enel joins in, and you have to start over from the beginning. She's just as surprised as Iona was when you broke the news. Your girlfriends act as if you've just been proposed to. You seem to be the only one -again- showing signs of speculation and doubt. The girls stay with you as the night goes on. They continue talking among themselves, while your eyes survey the crowd. Your fingers are toying with the ring above the table. The females passing by your table, look at you as if you're out of place. You quickly advert your eyes from their glares and look for something else to set them upon. But what you found started a fire within you. Thranduil, seemed to be deep in conversation with another elf. She was blonde, and fair skinned, much like himself. Smiling and laughing, she looked so natural. There's a flicker of flame in your chest as your eyes narrow. You're getting...jealous. The more you watch, the bigger the flame.   
   "Girls, I'm going to go take a walk. I'm feeling kind of funny again."  
   "Are you okay? Do you want us to go with you?" Asked Iona.  
   "Oh, no. I'm okay. Really." You smile weakly.   
   They seem unsure, but let you go anyway. You hug the wall of the room, trying your best to sneak by everyone, but of course, there was one set of eyes on you: Legolas'. He kept distance between you, and made sure to stay out of sight when you would stop and survey. The guards paid you no mind when you exited the gala and made your way back outside. Upon the great bridge that reached out over the raging river was empty; the forest still. The moon was full and standing tall in the sky above you. The ring, given to you by Thranduil, looked so ethereal out in the open. Lifting it into the sky, Legolas steps out from within in the shadows.  
   "I had a feeling that you would receive that ring," he said.  
   You gasp, nearly jumping. "Must you be so quiet?!" You grab your chest. "What are you doing?"  
   "I'd ask you the same question, mellonamin."  
   You look down at the ground. You can hardly tell yourself that you're jealous, so how can you bring yourself to tell the king's son what's going on? "Just needed some air."  
   "How are you feeling?" He asks. "I apologize for what happened." He steps toward you.  
   "It was not your fault. I really should be thanking you for all that you have done." You smile, still dropping your eyes.  
   "Is something else bothering you?" He looks doubly concerned as he stands beside you.  
   "Everyone keeps asking me that. I'm fine."  
   "You're defensive."  
   "Yes, well, maybe I am!" Your quick anger surprises him. "I'm sorry."  
   "There's no reason to suppress it. If you need someone to talk to, I have an open ear."   
   At first you hesitate, but there is something about his face that is welcoming. "Your father has told me why I'm here." You say, crouching down to hang your legs over the side of the bridge.   
   Legolas sat down beside you. "I take it was a surprise."  
   "Very."  
   "Is something bothering you about this?"  
   "No."  
   "Come now, you cannot lie to me," he says turning his face to you, though your gaze remains straight ahead of you.  
   "I left for a reason. Look, I've never been in any situation like this before. I've told you my past; I have no idea what I'm doing here. Talking to your father, Legolas, I felt this connection." He remains quiet, though he's toying with a smile at the corner of his mouth.  
   "You saw him with someone else, didn't you?" Legolas' voice is soft, comforting.  
   You say nothing, but nod.  
   "Let this be a soothing thought to your nerves: you were the last girl my father saw, and the first one he wanted to have a conversation with. It takes  _so_ much to catch my father's eye. You know what my mother meant to my father..."His eyes found yours; you felt his sorrow.   
   "Legolas, I don't want anyone to take your mother's pla--"  
   He cuts you off. "It will do my father good to have someone to whom he an go to and feel a degree of comfort with. For so long he has been walled up within himself, almost to the point of breaking. I know he's endured so much, but how far can a thread be stretched? Máiréad, he's been on a downhill slide, and I'm beginning to worry."  
   You place a hand upon his shoulder. "I understand your pain and worry, Legolas. It is not misplaced." This causes him to smile.   
   "You have a very _different_ look, Máiréad. Use that to your advantage."  
   "What do you mean? Your brown knit together.  
   "I've seen how everyone looks at you, and I'm sure you're used to it, but I think that you can really make the best of it. You need more confidence."  
   "I cannot pull it from thin air."  
   "Of course you can. You just need to open your eyes. Make them all wish that there was something about them that set them apart from everyone else."  
   You smirk. "What do you propose I do?"  
   "Hold your head up high for a change; stop looking down all the time. I know it's probably a shyness, but being timid will not build confidence."  
   "Okay," you say, making a mental note. "What else?"  
   "Don't advert your eyes from everyone that gives you an eye. Stare them back with the same intensity."  
   You're a tad confused. "Won't that just make me as rude as them?"  
   "You need to show them that they're done affect you. If my father chooses you to be his bride, you're going to have to deal with this, and it will probably be harder than what you're experiencing tonight."  
   He's right; you're not cut out for this. Not right now, you aren't. This fact stings your pride, what little shred of it you had left. Legolas senses this and takes your hand within his own. Quickly, you turn your face to his. He's smiling, but you're still unsure if you can do this.  
   "I'll do everything I can to help you," he says.  
   "Why?"  
   "I like you; you're genuine."  
   "I genuinely cannot hold my wine..."  
   You make him chuckle. "You did better than anyone aside from my father could, given what you were drinking. Come, let's get back before father sends the guards to track us down. We need to keep you on his good side!"  
   You hold on to his arms for balance as you rise to your feet. Pulling some hair over your shoulders you adjust your skirts and take his arm as the two of you re-enter the kingdom. His words were ringing in your ears. Your head was held high, and you were feeling proud to be escorted by the Prince of Mirkwood, with the king's eye on you as well. With a little more coaching, you might actually feel like you were a princess after all.  
    
  



	7. Forget-Me-Not

   You and Legolas were not gone more than fifteen minutes as most, yet when you returned, it was like you had walked in on another party completely. The atmosphere was loud and getting rather wild. There were happy yells and high-pitched yelps from dancers being spun around and, many elves, off to the sides, drinking more wine than they probably should have been drinking. With your head still held high, both Legolas and yourself chuckle as you're forced to tiptoe around a few that have passed out on the floor.  
   "I see that your father doesn't mess around when it comes to these things, huh?"  
   "No. There is no expense spared; everyone is told to enjoy themselves fully," says Legolas.  
   Legolas tries to get you to dance, another time, but you let go of his arm, and walk several steps ahead of him before turning around.   
   "Oh, no! I cannot trust you!"  
   He almost seems to pout, but instead he laughs. "How so?"  
   "You blindfold me and lead me astray!"  
   "I did nothing of the sort! That was my father's idea!"  
   Crossing your arms, you say, "Do not blame him for your wrongs, Legolas."  
   He laughs and joins back up with you, paying no mind to those casting you a side eye. You like the change in mood you're experiencing, and it feels good to laugh. But as you're walking along, you realize that he isn't taking you back to the table you shared with Iona and Enel, but back to the king's balcony.  
   "Where are we going?" You ask.  
   "I thought we would see how Ada is doing. Won't you join me?"  
   "I, um, of course." And like that, your mood flips, and Legolas notices.  
   "Stop that. Don't be nervous." You bite your lower lip. "You should act the same way around him as you do with me. What if I lied and said this was really a party to find a bride for myself? Would you lock up?"  
   "Probably!" You say truthfully.  
   "Hm, just keep your energy up, and you'll be fine!"  
   You nod, and allow him to lead you up the spiraling stairs once more. This time, however, it's much less of a struggle. Once the two of you reach the landing, Thranduil is looking in your general area. You both bow, and are told to come sit. Legolas shows you to the vacant seat beside his father, while he goes about finding one for himself. While he's gone, Thranduil breaks the silence.  
   "Are you fairing any better?"  
   "Yes, thank you. Though, I'm afraid that I cannot stand the sight of wine."  
   "That, is most unfortunate. Can I get you anything else in it's place?"  
   "No, my lord. You have done enough for me. I'm not used to all this attention." You blush, looking down at the table cloth.  
   "If you change your mind, don't hesitate to tell me, please."  
   "Yes, my lord."  
   Legolas returns shortly after, and you and the king greet him with smiles.  
   "Seems that the party has ended early for a few." Legolas says, looking to his father. "And I fear that there are several more that will be immobile within the hour."  
   "It's been too long since we've had a celebration such as this one. I am not surprised that many have forgotten how to handle themselves."  
   You sit quietly between the two of them, but during this time, you start to smile. Never would you have thought that you would be sitting between the king and prince of Mirkwood. Your parents will never believe you! The time begins to slip away from the three you, as you finally let go of your nervousness and let your true self shine through. A few times, you even make the king loose his calm and cool composure and bring him to smiles and laughter. Legolas, however, you never have a problem with. The two of you, act as if you were childhood friends, but you don't know why the bond between you feels so close. When he looks at you, he looks at you with warmth and honesty. It's not the love-struck look you're so often seeing from men.  
   "Máiréad, you're being awfuly quiet," says Legolas.  
   "Oh, I'm sorry!" You perk up fast.  
   "You don't have to apologize all the time," he replied.  
   "I'm sorr-!" You touch your fingertips to your mouth, embarrassed. Both Legolas and Thranduil smile at your childish innocence.  
   Not long after, two servants approach you, bringing silver trays of cheese and fresh fruit, as well as wine. Even after all this time, your stomach still quivers at the thought. You pick at the raspberries and honeydew mellon, while the others just sip their drinks. Really, this was the only thing you had eaten! No wonder that wine had done you so wrongly.  
   Another hour passed, and many elves were retreating back to their homes within the wood, yet more and more partied on. Thranduil rises from his chair, and tells you he's retiring to bed himself.  
   "Legolas, if you would, please, show Máiréad to her room when she is ready."  
   He nods, but you know your face is painted with a lost expression. Both you and Legolas say your goodbye's to your king, but as soon as he's gone, to frantically turn toward Legolas.    
   "What did he mean? My room?"  
   A smile forms on Legolas' lips. "You didn't expect to go home, after my father has an eye for you, did you?"  
   Blushing deeply, you say, "I suppose I should have assumed, but what of my family? I also didn't bring anything with me to accommodate a lengthy stay."  
   "A courier will return with the elves from your village and deliver a letter to your parents on your behalf. You're more than welcome to request him to bring back a few things, if you would like."  
   "Okay." You say in a soft voice.  
   "Come, you look tired. Let me take you back to your friends to say your goodbyes. I'll find you something to pen your message on, then I'll take you to your room." You agree to his terms and let him show you back downstairs. Iona was at the table, but Enel was missing.  
   "We've been looking for you everywhere!" Says Iona.  
   "I'll come back in a few minutes," replies Legolas before he excusing himself.  
   "You've been with the king again, haven't you?!" She smiles slyly.  
   "Him and Legolas both." You say raising and eyebrow.  
   "Again, I'm jealous! What's he like?"  
   "Who?"  
   "King Thranduil!" Iona's beaming.  
   "He carries a lot of sorrow within him. It takes a while to soften him up and make him smile. I feel much pain is within him."  
   Iona's mood changes from excited to saddened. "I'm sure he's seen a lot of terrible things. How does he act around you?"  
   "Well, he mostly just sits and listens to Legolas and I speak. I did make him laugh a couple times, but it seemed forced." Your eyes show worry.  
   "Maybe he just needs you to break down his wall!"  
   "I don't know if I can do that."  
   The two of you sit there until Legolas returns, and Enel makes her way back to you guys as well. He remains quiet as you pen the letter to your parents, explaining what's going on and for them to gather a couple items for you, while Enel gets the short story from Iona.  
    
                                               _Ada & Nana,_

 __This letter comes in place of myself. I have been asked, by the king, to remain here, within Mirkwood, until further notice. Please, do not worry, as I am safe and protected. I will pen you when I can, and explain to you what's going on when I have the time. As I was not preparing for this, I am without clothing and other items, so if you would, will you please send some things with the courier who gave you this note. He has agreed to bring them to me, as long as you do not encumber him. I do not know when I will return to you. Please, do not fret or worry. Iona can answer most questions that you have.__  
  
                            _With love,_  
 _Máiréad_

   You hand the letter off to Legolas and tell your girlfriends goodbye. They look at your with tear-filled eyes, but you give them a reassuring smile.  
   "Stop it, you two. This isn't going to be the last time you see me! Goodness, it's Mirkwood not the Grey Havens!"  
   They laugh lightly and wipe their eyes of any stray tears. Legolas bows to your friends and asks you if you're ready. Nodding, you wave goodbye and follow the Prince away from the party.  
   The two of you walk along in silence. Legolas looks over his shoulder at you, and smiles. "You will be treated well here."  
   You perk up quickly. "Oh, I had no doubt! This is just the first time I've ever stayed away from my home. Forgive me if I'm a little distant and unsure."  
   "You really must stop apologizing so much! Father understands this is probably difficult for you. He is a patient man."  
   Inside you, a feeling of warmness builds, but you keep it tucked inside. You continue following Legolas until you finally come to a stop at a door off by itself. The view was beautiful. Those inner halls wound round and round in a spiral shape. Your room was at the top of this spiral, looking down into a deep cavern below, the sounds of a waterfall echoing below.  
   Legolas opens the gate and shows you inside. The interior was nothing less than what was in Thranduil's bedchamber. It was warm and very inviting, but you weren't for certain if it was the room, or just because you were so tired.  
   "I hope this will do." Legolas says.  
   "Of course! It's wonderful! Thank you!"  
   "If there is anything you need, let me know. I'm going to hand this letter off as soon as I leave you. Your things will either be setting outside, or placed inside the door here."  
   "Thank you, again."  
   He bowed his head and left you alone. It took a couple moments before you explored your large room. Truthfully, you feared Thranduil might be lurking behind some corner. That silly thought alone made you giggle. The moment you sat down on the bed, you heard a knock at the door. Wondering who it could be, you quickly answered it.  
   "My lady, Legolas said you haven't had a real meal this evening, so he requested that I bring you something."  
   "Aw, thank you, so much!" You're beaming.  
   You show the male elf inside and he places the trays upon a small table and quickly leaves you be. There was everything on those trays! Steaming fish, with the hint of lemon, rice, fresh bread, everything was so amazing! Forget being tired, you were now starving! That food didn't stand a chance, it was gone withing minutes. You were thankful that there was no one around to watch you act to unladylike.  After dinner you drew a hot bath, and took a minute to reflect on all that had happened, it still blew your mind. You didn't even have a thought about tomorrow. Could this really be happening?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took me so long! And I'm sorry if it's not very good! D: If I don't finish a chapter in one day, then it starts to get crappy!


	8. Morning Glory

   Morning came fast.  
   You awoke underneath silken blankets, all warm and inviting. Rolling over on your side, you heard no noise. Back home, in your room, the sounds of birds and the warmth of the sun's early morning rays shook your from your slumber. Now, you weren't sure what had woken you. Throwing the sheets aside, you notice the things you had requested from your home, were sitting just inside the door. Quickly, you make your way over to them. Atop the pile, was a note:

                                               _Máiréad,_

  
 _Our heart is both saddened and cheerful at your words. We wish you the best in all that you experience._  
 _Do keep in touch whenever possible. We will count the days until you return._  
  
Love the both of us. 

You smiled, but you knew how much it hurt them that you were away. They knew you were in good hands and safe, but there was still that unknowingness. You took the two bags to the bed, and emptied them to see what all had been brought to you. The dresses, you knew your mother had packed, as they were not your regular clothes. What was here were formal gowns that had never seen the light of day, since being given to you, and never had a body in them. Your job didn't allow you to wear nice gowns, and the parties you had gone to, were dances around bonfires; you didn't wear anything that you weren't afraid to get dirty or ruined. You sighed as dress after dress you pulled out. You settled on a sage green gown with cream embroidery. It was the less dramatic of them all. Though, sooner or later, you would have to bite the arrow and wear what you didn't want to... _again._ _Maybe there are some shops where I can buy something better,_ you thought.  
   Once changed, you looked into the mirror, and surprisingly you liked the image. You pulled your hair into a low, side ponytail, and left it draped over your left shoulder. Stray locks framed your face. The dress was fitted and had a sizeable train left behind you as you walked. The sleeves were also fitted; you couldn't stand the elongated, bell-selves of other dresses. With a touch of perfume on your wrists you went to grab the ring that Thranduil had given you, but you pulled back your hand. _Should I wear this anymore? No, I shouldn't._ You leave it lie on the side table, as you turn toward the door.  
   Opening the door, you are amazed to see no movement from anything. No elves move around, no doors open or close other than your own. With a shrug you make your way back down the spiral landing. Small rays of sunlight shine down from the ceiling of the underground kingdom. It was a peaceful place.  
   "I didn't expect to see you around this early." Thranduil steps out in front of you, a small distance away.  
   "My king." You say with a bow of the head. "It's a habit, I suppose, to be awake so early."  
   "It gives one more opportunities in the day," he says with a smile. You agree with a nod. "Would you like to walk with me?"  
   It takes you by surprise, but you eagerly accept his offer and take your place by his side.  
   "Did you sleep well?" He asks.  
   "Yes, I did. Thank you."  
   Your strides are slow, but smooth. Out of the corner of your eye, Thranduil is so regal in everything he does. You wonder how you're fairing, as you're just a simple farm girl, thrown into a world of class and structure.  
   "Come, this way." Thranduil says, leading you down a bridge behind his throne. "Very few people enter this place, other than myself."  
   Your cheeks redden. What is making you so special in his eyes? As you follow behind him, you pass through several locked doors and a winding hallway. At the journeys end, you come to a private garden. Light is streaming in from a break in the ceiling, so high up. There are birds here, tweeting and flying around all about the place. You don't notice you're smiling like a child, but Thranduil does as he shows you further into the sacred area. In the center, is a pond, teeming with fish of very color, and a bench placed perfectly for gazing into it. You're given the go-ahead to take a seat, and watch as they dart around, one fish turning into another before your eyes.  
   "This place is so beautiful! I never would have expected something like this to be tucked away."  
   Thranduil smiles as he stands behind you, gazing down upon you smiling himself. "Yes, it is a place I go to get away from the troubles I so frequently am faced with. My people need me to be strong and fearless, but there are times I can feel myself crack."  
   You turn to be able to look at him. His expression has fallen; he is looking down now. "My king, you are allowed to feel that way. Everyone knows of your sacrifices and all that you have done for your kingdom."  
   He looks at you, at first there is fire in his gaze, but it recedes to a gentle warmth. "I wish I could tell myself that, but I have a duty to uphold, and it does not allow self-pity." Thranduil sits down beside you, and looks out into a space you cannot pinpoint. He looks so deep in thought, that you turn away, and continue watching the fish. Several are at the water's surface, taking in air, and waiting for you to throw them something to eat, but you have nothing. They don't hang around for long, and inevitably go back to swimming in a torrent.  
   "Forgive me, my lord, as I do not know what to say."  
   "You don't need to apologize. I should not have mentioned it."  
   "I will say this: King or not, there is no need for you to keep everything inside. Eventually, it will be too much, and the damage may not be fixable."  
   He seemed mildly shocked to hear you say something of that nature. You feel like you've over stepped your place, and bow your head.  
   "Those are very truthful words. Are you always so full of surprises?"  
   "I...I don't really know." You make a slight laugh. "I just speak from the heart."  
   "That is always the best notion. Though, the heart can lead one astray and take them down a path they should not have traveled."  
   "Why not travel down a path that has no trail?"  
   Thranduil sits and ponders at your statement before looking you in the eyes. "That is a beautiful question."  
   You smile at him, keeping your eyes on him. This moment seems to last for hours before a foreign voice breaks the silence.   
   "My lord! You're needed! It's urgent." Says a armor-clad guard, standing to attention as his king rises.  
   Thranduil says nothing, and briskly follows the guard, leaving you alone. Just before you thought he wasn't going to say anything to you, he did, "Stay here. I will return to you." Then he was gone. Alone in the stillness you sat, wondering about what had called him away. At least an hour passed, before you heard anything from anyone.  
   "My lady, my king asks that I have you follow me. It would seem that his current engagement may take longer than he had first anticipated."  
   You're saddened by the news, but you realize that you can't spend your entire day in the garden. You were getting hungry. The guard leads you back the way you had come, but up into the deeper reaches of the kingdom, to the libraries. The shelves were lined with book after book. Your eyes lite up at the sight.  
   "Will this suffice?" He asks.  
   "Of course. Thank you!" You nod your head and step into the large room, not knowing where to look first. The room was immense, with troves of knowledge boundless. One binding caught your eye. It was of burgundy color with gold script. It was a book of tomes! Pulling it gently from the shelf, you find a vacant table in the center of the room and crack open the cover. The pages strained as they hadn't seemed to have been opened in who knows how long of a time. The paper was stained brown with age, but the text was still dark and very legible. It was handwritten, in a very beautiful text. It was obviously a female's penmanship. Your eyes fly over page after page. Magic was very interesting to you, and you felt that you could possibly have some talent in it, but in your small village, it was almost shunned. Most saw it as an hindrance other than an attribute to aid, and you were told to drop the subject at a young age. Even now, you hadn't thought about it. Thanks to this tome, you were curious again.  
   "The queen was very powerful with that magic," said a smooth female voice behind you. "She wrote everything in that book, you know." As you turn you head to follow the voice, you remember where the elf's face looks familiar from. She was the blonde that had struck jealousy in you at the gala the night previous. She looked at you with a slyness in her eyes, as she stood towering over you from your seated position. You say nothing to her. The emotions on your face reveal nothing.  
   "What interest have you in being here? Reading the queen's work?"  
   "I don't know what you're talking about."  
   "Trying to morph yourself into a likeness of her to make the king's eyes fall on you?" She put her hands on the table and leans toward you.   
   Still, you remain quiet, your eyes never leaving hers. _Who do you think you are?_   You think to yourself. There is nothing coming to mind that you can say to her. She takes your silence as an act of fear and laughs, leaving you soon after she disrupts you.  
   "I'll be sure to mention to him that you're reading the queen's books. There was a reason it hadn't been touched since her death." The female's long white-blonde hair flips in the wind as she exits the library, closing the door with a deafening slam. The other elves inside the library jump at the abrupt sound, looking up from their own books at you. Their expressions are of sorrow and pity.  
   "Do not listen to her, my child. She sees you as a threat, nothing more." Says a very wise looking male, his back to you as he scans the shelves for a particular volume. "The reason no one has read that book, is because no one has possessed a magic skill anywhere close to our late queen's. None have been able to truly comprehend what she has written there. The king should not be upset."   
   A small voice comes from you with a thank you, but your eyes fall heavy upon the pages now. With regret and doubt, you close the old book, and walk it back to it's resting place. Your mood has been shattered. Thranduil will know something is wrong when he comes looking for you. What will you say to him?


	9. Queen of the Prairie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OMGGGGGGGGG, guys!  
> I'm sorry this is so late!   
> I've got a big con coming up, and a lot of cosplay loose ends! D:  
> Forgive me if this chapter is absolute crap!

   You couldn't bring yourself to pull another book from the shelves. The same thing kept playing through your mind: 'Trying to morph yourself into a likeness of her to make the king's eyes fall on you?' Her face looks so evil and unlike her from the night previous. Your brows furrow as you rise from the table, and exit the library. Outside, the place is busy. Elves in armor are walking in uniform lines, going to an unseen location, but their numbers never seem to end. Trying to find a break in the line, you decide to go back to your room.  
   Standing there watching the soldiers, scanning each one that passes by, you notice the blonde female, standing on the other side, some distance back. Her eyes are on you like you're prey; her expression blank. You look away from her, yet you can still feel her eyes like fire. You decide to wait no longer at this spot. Turning on your heels you take off, unsure of where you were going. The only saving grace was the line of marching soldiers between you and her.  
   As you followed where the marching elves were coming from, you finally see a comforting face. It was Legolas. He was standing at the entrance of what looked like an armory. You here a voice inside your head, telling you not to bother him, but you ignore it and push past it. Thankfully, he sees you and greets you first.  
   "Máiréad! It is good to see you!" He says, with a smile.  
   You give him a weak smile in return.  
   "What's wrong?"  
   "It's nothing. I just--" Your voice breaks off. Legolas takes you lightly by the arm, linked with his, and walks you away to a place more quiet, and less hectic.  
   "Something is bother you."  
   "I met with your father this morning." This makes Legolas smile. "He took me to a beautiful garden."  
   "Consider yourself lucky. No one gets to see that place."  
   You look down. "He was called away by an armored guard, and I was escorted to the library to spend some time until your father was free. I--I found a book and was so fascinated with it until I learned what it was."  
   "I know of nothing in those shelves to cause this kind of emotion. Please, Máiréad, tell me what's bothering you."  
   "It was a book of your mother's, Legolas." Tears well in your eyes, as you keep your head down.  
   "There are several in there, but what of it?"  
   "I was approached by that blonde elf that I saw your father talking with last night. She accused me of trying to become more like your mother so that your father would favor me."  
   Legolas frowns. "My father needs no reason to favor your more."  
   "Her words rattled me enough that I left the library, and was headed back to my room, but I couldn't get back." You look back at the string of elves still marching in their even lines. "I saw her standing on the other side of the soldiers, glaring at me. I just started walking. That's when I found you."  
   He lifts your chin. Seeing the tears in your eyes, he frowns again, pulling you into a hug.  
   "Forgive me of my weakness." You say into his shoulder.  
   "You do not need to be strong for me." You pull back and look up at him. "Be strong for my father."  
   Tears stream from your eyes at this point. Legolas pulls you back into his arms, tighter now.  
   "Do you still want to go back to your room?" You nod, still wrapped in Legolas' arms. "Come, I'll take you back."  
   "Don't you need to be here?" You ask, as the two of your separate. "Not really. I think they can survive without me for a few moments."  
   Legolas leads you through lower tunnels and passes, out of sight from virtually anyone. By now, your tears had subsided, but deep down you felt childish for crying, but you were thankful that it didn't seem like Legolas was going to hold it against you. The two of you didn't talk much, as you walked, and before you realized it, you were already back in that grand hallway where you room was located. You open the door, but remain in the threshold. Turning to face your male companion, you notice he looks concerned.  
   "What's wrong?" You ask.  
   "That woman you mentioned earlier... Are you for certain that it was who you saw on father's balcony? There are many within this kingdom that would have feelings of jealousy toward you. However, if my father sees her in the same light that he sees you in, he must be informed that she's trying to get you to submit."  
   You dropped your head. You hadn't told Legolas, but while in the library, you had had the notion to pack up your things and go back to your tiny village. Her words: 'Trying to morph yourself', dug at you. You weren't trying to mimic the life the late queen had lived; you were simply intrigued by a book upon a shelf. But if word spread throughout the kingdom of your "intentions", what was keeping the rest of Mirkwood from seeing you as a harlot?  
   "Yes, I'm sure it was her." Your voice trails to a whisper. "Legolas, I don't want to cause problems--"  
   "You're not the one causing problems," he says, cutting you off. "I will bring this to father's attention."  
   You take his arm out of fear; your eyes showing the same expression. "Please, don't..."  
   Legolas is confused. "Why not? That action toward you was unwarranted and out of line. She must be shown that those types of actions will not be tolerated."  
   Looking down at his feet you say, "Let me tell him."  
   "No."  
   Tears well in your eyes no sooner had they dried the first time. "Please..."  
   He shakes his head. "It will do you more good if the news comes from me. He will ask you about it, rest assured, but at least the initial shock will have subsided. Now, go rest. It will help to clear your mind." Reluctantly, you agree and you both say your goodbyes. As you shut the door behind you, you slump to the floor. _I didn't ask for this. Did I?_ With a heavy sigh, some moments later, you pulled yourself from the floor and shuffled to the bed. Maybe a nap would do you good.

X X X X X

   _Knock. Knock. Knock.  
_    The rapping at the door stirs you from your slumber. As you pull yourself to an upright position you rub at your eyes.  
   _Knock. Knock. Knock._  
   Whoever it is, is persistent, as the knocking becomes more rapid. Once your feet hit the ground, you call out to the unknown being. "I'm coming." Untangling the ends of your hair, you take a breath and open the door. Standing before you, wasn't who you thought. For a second, you thought that Thranduil was checking on you, but instead it was Legolas, again. His face looked a torrent of fearful emotions.  
   "What's wrong?" You ask, pushing stray strands of hair over your shoulder.  
   "No time. Come with me, I will explain on the way."  
   As the two of you take off in a brisk walk, the sound of horns wailing catches your ear, even though it came from far off in the distance. "What was that?" You ask.  
   "Orcs have been pouring into Mirkwood. We're evacuating all those whole live within the forest."  
   "Well, why are you moving me?" You ask. Your room was located rather high up within the kingdom's ceiling. You thought it would be a rather safe place, should an attack find itself within this area. Apparently, Legolas seemed to think otherwise.  
   "Father's orders."  
   You nearly stop walking at his words. Thranduil wanted you _moved_? "Where are you taking me?"  
   "Somewhere only the king and myself know of. Now, really, we must hurry. I'm late getting to you as it is."  
   You followed his orders and hurried through the winding paths to the point that you feared should you trip, it surely would be the end of you. All around you, elves were panicking. Mothers screamed out for their children to stay close by their sides as they were their most treasured belongings. For a moment, you both stood still. The echoes of voices was eerie, sending goosebumps all over your skin. Legolas had been waiting for a break in the chaos, and where such a break occurred, you were startled by the pull on your arm. You were now going away from the hoard, seemingly toward the king's throne room.  
   As you both cleared the stairs and stopped upon the landing, you see Thranduil emerge from behind his throne. It takes you by surprise, as you didn't expect to see him come from such an obscure place.  
   "My king!" You say, with a bow of your head.  
   He says nothing to you, but to Legolas instead, "Where have you been? I told you to have this done fifteen minutes ago!" Thranduil looks angry, an expression you have yet to see upon his features. It scares you.  
   "I'm sorry. There was a problem with the archers I had to tend to. It ran longer than I had anticipated. Forgive me." He too, bows his head, and keeps his eyes from his father's gaze.  
   "Go now, see to that all have escaped the forest and give the order to bar the grand gate."  
   You give Legolas a final, sorrowful look before he leaves your company. Now, you're alone with an angry elvenking.   
   He does not seem to be in a conversing mood, nor was it the time. You turn to face him, wishing to avoid his glare but knowing it is unavoidable.  
   "Come. This way." He beckons, leading you back behind the throne. Thranduil dispels the magic barrier, revealing a stairwell leading down, what looks like, a very long distance. He walks ahead of you, and with each step a torch comes alight. The two of you spiral downward and downward until the stairwell opens up into a warm, very well lit room. It is of medium size, but seems to hold treasures of immeasurable worth. You look around in wonder, but quickly shaken from your little world.  
   "You will remain here until everything is secured. Once I leave you, that door will seal shut, and only I can lift the barrier. No one can be anymore safe that you."  
   "What of you?!" You're worried, and your voice and expression further voice it.  
   "I must uphold my duty to my kin. I will fight alongside them and put an end to this threat. I can say no more at this time." He bows his head to you, and turns to exit.  
   "Return safely, my king." You say, getting a humble smile from over his shoulder. It isn't long until his footfalls were no more and you were left in the stillness that was that room. It really did seem to be a treasure trove, which would explain why only Legolas and the king would know about it. You didn't want to snoop, but it was hard to not go see what was on display.   
   There were small, velvet-lined boxes filled with precious stones, pure and waiting to be worked into jewelry. Ancient texts littered a whole table of their own. It was hard for you to believe that a place like this existed. You were remembered of your place back home, and how different this place was compared to home. Shaking your head in disbelief, you turn and find a place to sit until your king comes to rescue you. In the stillness your mind wanders. Your heart races as nervousness starts to consume you. You find yourself caring very deeply for both Legolas and his father, and now both of them are away from you and on the battlefield.   
   Everything is happening so quickly. 


	10. Love in a Mist

   You managed to doze off, only after your mind had time to calm it's worried thoughts. It was not a peaceful slumber; nightmares woke you up with screams breaking the silence. With raspy, heavy breaths, you paced you the floor; a cold sweat gracing your brow. As your mind tried to remember the scenes that disturbed you, you kept telling yourself that they were all just a dream, an illusion. Thranduil was going to be fine; it was not going to play out like it had in your subconscious. Your knees began to feel limp as the room started to spin the more you pondered. "Thranduil, where are you?" And with a soft thud, you fell; heaps of fabric falling around you, cushioning your fall.

x x x x x

   "Máiréad!"  
   The sound of your name seemed as if it was being shouted into a cave. Every sound you heard seemed to echo, but you couldn't say anything in response. Behind your eyelids, a bloodied elven king holds you in his arms, his brows furrowed with fear. You slipped back into a quiet slumber as Thranduil lifted you from the floor and took you from the room. What you weren't aware of was that the king had suffered terrible injuries during the battle. Unintentionally, he had dripped blood on to your clothes as he refused for anyone else to carry you.

x x x x x

   "Well, is the king alright?"  
   You awoke, back in your room, to hear two female elven maids talking. The maid standing over you, with a washcloth, was talking to the other who was holding the dress you had been wearing. Though your eyesight was blurred, you could see large patches of red all over the bodice.  
   "What has happened?!" You bolt upwards to a seated position, startling the two maids.   
   "My lady! Please, lay back down!" says the maid closest to you.  
   "My dress! Am I hurt?!" You feel around on your stomach, yet feel no pain. "What is going on?"  
   Once the maid gets you calmed back down, she begins to explain what transpired up until this point.  
   "The king went to find you after he returned from the battle. You were unconscious, my lady. The king was worried about you. I've not seen him concerned like that before."  
   "You were asking if he was alright? Is that his blood on my dress?!" Your voice is frantic and full of fear. "Where is he?!"  
   "My lady, the more you fuss, the worse you're going to feel. Now, please, lay down."  
   "But, what of Thranduil..." Your strength wains as you fall back into the pillows.  
   "The king is strong; he will be alright." The maid's voice did little to reassure you, and her weak smile only worried you more. Not long after you slipped away into rest, only plagued by more nightmares that kept you restless. When you awoke, the maids were gone, but your mind was still uneasy. Throwing the covers aside, you slipped on a silk robe, put your hair in a loose braid and exited your room quietly. The halls were vacant of any guards or maids, but you could hear commotion coming from further in kingdom. Barefoot, you were almost able float from hall to hall. But the closer you got to Thranduil's room, the more congested the traffic became. Hiding behind a pillar, you peeked around to get a better look, and saw - through a opening door - Thranduil in bed, wrapped in bandages. He looked so broken, laying there wounded and motionless.  
   Ducking behind the pillar, you remained out of sight, until there was time for you slip in.  
   As you tip-toed up to him, tears welled in your eyes. Touching his arm, Thranduil stirred.  
   "My lord..." A tear rolled down your cheek.  
   "Please, hiril vuin (my lady), do not cry."  
   "I...my lord, what happened to you?" You blink away more tears, as you take a seat beside him. He takes your hand. His forearm is bandaged to his shoulder; blotches of blood have begun so seep through.  
   "We were caught off guard by a band of archers. Never have I let my guard down..." He winced, as he adjusted his position on the bed.  
   "Can I get you anything?"  
   "No, just--" A strained gasp left his mouth. His eyes were clenched shut. "Don't leave me."  
   "Avon. (I won't.)" With that, he smiled and squeezed your hand. At that moment, the door opened revealing two male servants who seemed just as shocked as you to see one another. Your cheeks flushed with red as your face turned back toward Thranduil's. His voice was strained as he spoke to them their orders.  
   "Leave whatever you brought with you here. I will send for you later." You were confused, as you were more than willing to give the king his space, but he insisted you didn't go anywhere. The servants bowed after relinquishing their items to a small table, and let themselves out without a word. You, too, remained quiet until he spoke again.   
   "How are you feeling?"  
   "My king, I am not important." You reply, with a bow of the head.  
   "You are to me."   
   Reopening your eyes, you look at him. He's smiling.   
   "You are too kind." You say.  
   "You're not kind enough to yourself." This causes you to blush, but soon your expression shifts. Thranduil is in pain. It's as obvious as a black line on his face.   
   "Is there anything I can do for you? I know how to treat those puncture wounds..." You voice fades, as you know anything you do will cause him more pain before the healing begins.   
   "What do you need?"  
   Thinking on that question for a moment, you render a small list of supplies. "I need water, witch hazel, agrimony and some cloth bandages."  
   "Go see what they brought in."  
   You leave his side, his hand reluctant to withdraw from yours. Upon the table, were the bandages and water, but the herbs were absent. "The herbs? Where can I get them?"  
   "There should be a guard at the end of the hall, tell him you need to see Durlan. He should see you to him. Durlan is an elder, wise beyond his days. Though he does not know you, he should be very welcoming and eager to help you."  
   You bow your head, but look down at your clothes. You were not exactly dressed for calling on favors. You were surprised you had left your room in this state to begin with. Thranduil catches sight of your embarrassment. "In the wardrobe, behind you, is a dressing coat. It's made to be big in the sleeves and drag the floor. Wrap that around you, you will be fine."  
   You say nothing, only pausing for a moment before rummaging through the king's wardrobe. Countless robes of earthen tones, made of silks and brocades, hung there, only one fit the description. Pulling the heavy garment from it's hanger, you drape it over your body and instantly felt encased in warmth and nobility, funny enough. Taking your waist-length braid, you drape it over shoulder and look at him with a smile.  
   "Are you really going to make me parade around your kingdom in your clothes, the night after we meet?"  
   "Is that a problem?"  
   You chuckle. "I...just feel like this is wrong."  
   "Come here."  
   You follow his orders, taking a seat, again, by his side. He instructs you to grab pen and paper from a dresser beside the bed. You pen a letter, addressed to Durlan, with the items with which you need, and Thranduil signs the bottom. Every movement the elven king made, struck pain within your own body. He was suffering greatly. Laying in his bed, shirtless, his long blond hair was draped over both shoulders, the arrow entry wounds were countless, as the blood specked the white bandages concealing the wounds. Just the visualization of all those arrows sticking out from his body nearly sent you into shock. This right arm had over eight; his chest at least ten. It was a miracle he had survived that attack. Elven magic was strong, but to overcome that much poison, you truly had to have a lot of fight within. And there was no questioning Thanduil's fight.   
   "Take this to the guard, tell him it's an urgent message from me. You'll have what you need in moments. Are you sure this is all?"  
   You nod, taking the letter from him and hurrying toward the door. For now, the hall was still silent, only the lone guard of which Thranduil spoke. He looked at you blankly, before taking the message. As his eyes skimmed the words, he bowed his head and took off in a direction you had not traveled within the kingdom. Nervously, you shuffled back to the threshold of Thranduil's bedchamber. In front of the closed door, you looked down at your feet, and marveled at what you were wearing. This trumped even that blue gown you wore the night before. It was so beautiful, but had to be an iconic piece for the king. Anyone and everyone living withing this realm would know it was his. Hence the reason why you were cowering in the archway.   
   When the guard returned with the small satchel of items, you thanked him, and quickly ducked back within the safety of the king's room. It seemed like he was waiting for you to return, and smiled when you did.  
   "Did you get everything you needed?" He asked.  
   "I think so." You said, digging around in the bag. "And then some!" Your voice conveyed happiness, but this was not going to be a pleasant experience for either of you. As you looked up, you saw him with a strained smile upon his lips. Seeing that, you went to work immediately to soothe his suffering. 

  
  
x x x x x

   It took you roughly a half an hour, to make the poultices and get them applied. Thranduil tried his best to show to pain, but when you began putting pressure on those puncture wounds, it was impossible. With fresh bandage wrappings on, the king looked in much need of a rest. You dabbed his face with a warm cloth, as his eyes closed. He looked more at peace now than he had. Leaving his bedside, you cleaned up your ingredients, putting everything back where in it's proper place. Taking the robe, from the foot of the bed where you had laid it to keep it clean, you hung it back out and attempted to sneak away from the room.  
   "Where are you going?" A strained voice called out from behind you.   
   "I was going to let you rest, my lord." You replied, your hand on the doorknob.   
   "Stay here with me, please."  
   You don't know what to say. You just stand there, still.   
   "You don't have to stay long. Just let me fall asleep knowing you're safe from harm."  
   Tears well in your eyes, as you nod. You sat on his less injured side, looking at him with a soft gaze. He motioned for you to lay beside him, rather than to just sit. Slowly, to not disturb him, you laid on your side, nestling up against him as he placed his arm around you. This wasn't your first time on this bed, nor would it be your last.  
   You heard a whispered "thank you" before closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep in the king's arms. 


	11. Coral Bells

A month has passed since the attack in the Mirkwood forest that severely injured the elven king, Thranduil.   
You have been tending to his wounds daily, but he still struggles with pain, as the poison off the arrows was strong and very abundant.  
Required to stay within his gaze, Thranduil has become quite attached to you.  
The female elf, whom you were  _competing_ with, was dealt with and was no longer a threat to you.  
You felt more relaxed and at home within Mirkwood now, and the elves there were very respectful of you.   
Everyone was eager to be around you; interact with you in even the most simplistic of actions.  
Children loved to dance around you, singing songs of gladness and always asking you what those spots on your face were.  
They made you laugh, and their parents smiled and laughed alongside you.   
Thranduil, in keeping a close eye on you, has found himself smiling more than he has in hundreds of years.  
Legolas says he notices a huge change in his father, and knows that you are the reason.  
Today, your family has been invited to come and visit you.  
This will have been the first time since you left home. 

   You're nervous.  
   Why are you nervous? It's just your parents...and your _little brother_. You had hoped that your parents would just leave him behind, and spare you the headache, and worry of having to apologize every time the brat opened his mouth. Knowing your mother, she'd drag him along and claim that he would be on good behavior. You know it to be false. He would find every excuse to ruin your time with them, and make everything about him. King or not, your brother had no respect, and you couldn't understand where that had stemmed from.   
   That morning, as you paced in your room (now moved closer to Thranduil's own room) your hands were a clammy, shaky mess. Your mother was going to be just a bundle of excitement, and that, too, scared you. You were her only daughter who had now caught the eye of a king. In reality, who couldn't be more proud? It was just that you weren't the type to get so worked up. You perfed to keep a quiet and calm demeanor and sink into the background whenever possible.   
    _" _Máiréad, if you're going to be queen, you'll have to get use to being in the spotlight. A queen, and a wife, must be strong for her husband. And if your husband is a king as well, then you must be doubly strong, both for him and your people."__    
   You rolled your eyes at the thought of your mother nagging you. It was just inevitable.   
   But you also were not married.

   With a heavy sigh, you leave your room and opt for a private walk. With the days that had passed, you no longer felt like you had to sneak around the twisting and turning pathways, nor did you require a guide. The kingdom was alive with elves going every direction, though it was just a normal day. There was no celebration planned, even though the king never needed a reason. As you slowly walked among them, they made sure to bow their heads, as if you  _were_  royalty. You repaid he gesture every time and smiled. It wasn't until you reached the main gate did your smile lapse. There were always ample guards standing watch over the kingdom's entrance, but today they looked somber.   
   "It is not a good idea to go outside, my lady," says a blond, male guard.   
   Your voice is frantic, "What's wrong? Has something happened?"  
   "No, I just don't think you would take joy in strolling through torrential rainfall."  
   You felt your heart sink. You loved taking a stroll through the forest, dangerous as Thranduil tried to convey to you that is was. You thanked the guard and turned back. "Well, now what?" You softly muttered to yourself. Then you remembered that your family was attempting to travel in this lot. Your brows furrowed as you took a detour, up the guard entrances to where their fortifications inside the mountain were concealed.  But before you got one step inside the spiraling stairwell, a familiar face caught your ear.   
   "Where do you think you're going?" Asks Legolas with a smirk on his face.  
   "Wherever I please." You tease, unable to hold back a smile for more than a moment.  
   "Oh no, you've been around my father too long. You're beginning to gain his sense of self-entitlement."  
   "Legolas! You father has earned that right!" You pout, but then realizing that the prince is simply teasing you. "What are  _you_ doing here?"  
   "Well, I'm just doing my normal, morning rounds. I take it you were trying to off to explore the forest again?"  
   You remain quiet, looking down at the floor littered with wet shoe prints.  
   "Máiréad, you know how that makes my father nervous. Especially after the attack..."  
   You don't say anything; you know he's right. Legolas realized that you understand what he's saying and walks over to console you. With a hand on either of your shoulders, you look up at him.   
   "I'm sorry." He says.   
   "No, no, you're right. He's been telling me how it frightens him..." Your eyes drop again. "I just don't have anything to do."  
   "I think I can help you with that. Here, come with me."  
   "Don't you have things to do?" You ask, confused.  
   "I think they can handle it. Plus, I'm doing the king a favor by keeping you out of harms way." He winks and leads you back toward the direction you had come from.

  
x x x x x

   "You had mentioned to me, when you found that tome of my mother's, that you had in interest in magic. Is that still true?"  
   You look at him, startled. "I told you that?"  
   "Well, if you didn't, I assumed. Did I assume incorrectly?"  
   "No...but..." You're confused.  
   "Don't look at me like that!" Legolas teases.  
   You stop before an ornately carved door, very, very deep within the sub-layer of the kingdom. It was a strange place, with it's shrouded passageways and damp demeanor. You were frightened, but had faith in Legolas that he knew what he was doing, and where he was leading you.  
   "Legolas...what am I doing here again?"  
   "I'm going to introduce you to someone who might be able to help you."  
   "Help me with what?" You turn you head to look at him, eyes wide and searching.   
   "Maybe finding a hidden talent. If anyone knows of elves with the gift, it's this man."  
   "Who?!" You ask frankly. Just then, the door creaked open, revealing a tall, and very slender elf with long ashy-blond hair.   
   "Tarron!" said Legolas.  
   The man behind the door bowed his head, to the prince, but then looked at you with narrowed eyes. You dropped your gaze, wanting nothing more than to hide behind Legolas like a shield from the piercing gaze that was upon you.   
   "How can I help you, my lord?" said Tarron. His voice was very calm, and slow, but also very sly and mysterious. Not even one minute with this man, and you wanted to turn and run. Was Legolas really thinking of leaving you here, with him....alone?!   
   "I was wondering if you might be willing to take on an apprentice...of sorts?"  
   "Of sorts, my lord. What is it you're implying?" said Tarron, still looking at you. "Does she have any natural ability?"  
   "That...I am unaware of. She does have a strong interest, however--I"  
   "Interest does nothing if there is no talent to start with." Legolas is puzzled, and beginning to get frustrated. Tarron is still looking at you. "Tell me, child, do you know if you have any magic ability? Able to set this afire by just visualizing the object?"  
   "N-N-No, I don't know." You mumble.  
   "Speak up."  
   "I do not recall." You say, getting a tinge of attitude.   
   "Legolas, I do not mean to insult you, but I believe this to be a waste of time." Tarron has returned his gaze to the prince, his voice with that same smug tone.  
   "Even at a young age, those magically inclined are well aware of their talents at a child's age. None have sleeper skills. I'm sorry for your trouble of finding me. I cannot help you." With another bow of the head, he slowly closes the door.  
   You turn to Legolas with furrowed brows.  
   "I'm sorry, Máiréad. Tarron can be a....character." He gives you his arm, and the two of you retreat back to more welcoming ground. 

  
  
x x x x x

   "And what are the two of you doing?" Asks Thranduil, as both Legolas and yourself emerge from the _underground._ He's standing tall, but pain still resonates through his features.   
   "I was hoping that Tarron would be in a good mood today, but he was not," replied his son.  
   "Tarron? What business do you have with him?" Thranduil looks first at you then back to Legolas.  
   "I was hoping that he could take Máiréad in as an apprentice, give her something to do, than sit and stare at the floor."  
   "I don't want the two of you going back down there. Do you understand me?" Thranduil is stern in his ruling and his facial expressions. "I do not know his intentions as of late, but keep your distance."  
   Both Legolas and yourself are shocked at the king's words, but take everything he says to heart. Legolas excuses himself, with a deep apology, leaving you alone with your king.  
   "My lord, I'm sorry!" You drop your gaze immediately. He sees you're ashamed, and wraps his arms around you. Normally, he wouldn't show such emotion publicly, but the both of you were hidden. Not long after, you felt his chin rest upon the top of your head. "I don't mean to worry you," you whisper.   
   "I know you don't. I'm sorry if I seem over protective of you."  
   You gently dig your fingers into his shoulder blades.   
   "Are you really that bored here?" He asks.  
   You withdraw your face from his chest, opting to look him in the eye. "I am not bored; just out of my element. My lord, I am not a lady of court, I'm a bar-maid."  
   Thranduil cups your face in his hand and smiles. "Give me time. I will see what I can do to pass your time. Just promise me you will not go to meet Tarron again."  
   "I promise."  
   "I hear your family is visiting today?"  
   You nod, "Yes! I just pray that they left my younger brother... He has no manners, nor respect for anyone other than himself. I am afraid that I will lapse back into my 'back-woods' ways and act out of character."  
   "As long as you deal with it behind closed doors, no one will know." He smiles and kisses your forehead.   
   "Or, you could have him locked away until they leave."   
   Thranduil looks at you peculiarly before giving in with a chuckle.   
   "I will let you make that call. Now, enough of troubling siblings. Come, take a walk with me." 


	13. Drawing to a Close

I know so many of you have been waiting for a new chapter of this story, but I've come to the conclusion that this needs a rewrite! Trust me, it will be better than this one ever was...I reread a few paragraphs of it, lately and was embarrassed by how it sounded. I have new ideas and new characters. Things will be changing, and it won't just be a updated rewrite, I guess is what I'm trying to say. The plot will be mostly the same, but again, it will have changes!   
My style has changed, my writing has improved, and I'm ready to give this one a face lift. I'll post here, only once more when the new one is up, for those of you who have stuck with me from the beginning, for notification of when the new one is posted.   
Again, I thank everyone one who has either commented, bookmarked this or even left a like on it. I never expected to get even over 100 likes on this! Thank you all so much. (:


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